


I've watched you slowly winding down for years...

by Blackbird_singing



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Animals make good therapists, Brothers, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt!Loki, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Torture, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Possible slight movie spoilers, Proctective!Thor, Redemption, Sif is everyone's bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_singing/pseuds/Blackbird_singing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki had been tainted by the Tesseract from the moment he first touched it, he wasn't able to control what he had done, but by the time Thor has figured it out Loki's punishment has already been carried out... can Thor save his brother, and can Loki finally make amends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tainted (prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Imogen Heap song "Speeding Cars"  
> I felt it appropriate :)
> 
> This is officially the fist fic I have ever posted up for public consumption, let alone on AO3, so bear with me as I figure out how to do ALL THE THINGS. ^_^
> 
> NOTE  
> This story is assuming that the Cask of Ancient Winters is the Tesseract, due to Schmidt's comment in Captain America that the Tesseract was "The jewel of Odin's treasure room"
> 
>  
> 
> Beta'd by Soundandvision, to whom I owe a million thank yous.  
> I have a dirty love affair with the oxford comma, and the ellipses... I abuse them... she has helped me with this problem XD

**Prologue: Tainted**

If Loki thought about it, it all started the day he stole into Odin’s treasure room--the day he first laid his hands upon the Tesseract and watched his skin turn azure and cold. The cube did something to him that day. It didn’t hollow him out, not like he had done to Erik Selvig and the cocky archer, but it somehow muted everything good in the world until all that was left was the pain and the cold. In a small detached part of his mind he watched himself scream at Odin...call himself a monster....

He had asked if he was cursed...he didn’t know how close to the truth that was.

“I could have done it father, for you!” he had called beseechingly. 

Thor’s face was red with strain holding on to the one lifeline Loki yet possessed. But with two words Odin ripped away the last hope he had, and Loki felt the light go out of his life. He realized, if only for a moment, exactly what he had done. 

Cold filled the hollow places inside of him, he wanted to apologize, to beg forgiveness...anything to make his father stop looking at him with such...disappointment. He choked on his words; tears streaming down his face he looked at his brother one last time. Thor’s expression transforming to one of horror as he read what Loki meant to do in his eyes.

Goodbye, dear brother... he thought smiling wistfully as he let go of Odin’s scepter. Thor screamed reaching futilely after him, and Loki kept his eyes locked on the one person who had always believed in him, until he could no longer see, and the darkness between Yggdrasil’s branches swallowed him whole.

He had meant to die, but the Tesseract wasn’t done with him...not yet. He fell forever, consumed by the cold, and the darkness...madness and pain....

When the Chitauri found him he was a raving lunatic, starved and cold, his eyes sunken and wild. The Tesseract pulled the fractured pieces of him back into a man, but it warped him. Dug out his memories and replaced them with hate. Hate for Asgard, hate for Thor--hate for himself and his weakness.

The pieces of him that remained were locked in his mind. He watched in horror as he stole the will of the archer and the scientist, subjugated the humans, attacked his own brother.

He screamed mindlessly at Thor for throwing him off of the Bifrost and plunging him into this hell.  
But was that truly how it had happened? He couldn’t remember....

There was nothing but death. Death all around him.

Thor asked for his help, for his kinship, and Loki’s heart broke all over again. He stabbed his brother for his kindness.

Then somehow, he woke up. 

The green abomination had caught him, beat him until he couldn’t see. He woke up in a hole in the floor made by the impact of his body. Looming over him was the hulking creature, ready to grab him by the arm again to beat him senseless once more. He dragged himself out, bloodied and battered, and turned over so that the steps leading to Stark’s bar pressed painfully into his back.

Thor was there. They all were, all of the so-called Avengers. But, the only thing Loki could see was his brother. Thor’s face was a mask, but the anger and disappointment was plain enough in his gaze, and Loki’s stomach bottomed out. Thor, his brother, no longer believed in him. What had he done?

Loki tried to laugh, toss in a joke, deflect the hatred in their eyes the way he had learned to do on Asgard when Thor wasn’t there to help defend him from the larger Aesir children.  
Thor was there, right in front of him...but he wasn’t defending Loki anymore.

They fitted him with a mask. The metal chaffed and burned against his skin, dulling his magic, silencing his tongue.

The cuffs around his wrists and ankles were no better. He tried to catch his brother’s eyes, pleading silently. If only Thor would listen, if only Loki could explain.... He could still fix this, couldn’t he? 

Loki had always been able to make Thor understand, had always been able to save himself. The silvertongue, the clever prince. But how could he take advantage of his silver tongue with no words? How could he explain to his brother when he wouldn’t even meet his eyes?

Desperately, Loki scanned the faces of his brother’s friends, but the only ones that would look at him were the Woman and the Archer. She smirked cruelly whispering something to the Archer whose smile spread slowly, his own eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

Thor thrust one end of the container suppressing the Tesseract in his direction, finally meeting Loki’s eyes but he was angry...closed off.

Loki’s gaze fell down to the container feeling a sick hopelessness in his chest. He was lost. He was lost and there was no one left to come looking for him. 

Closing his eyes against the burning of tears he refused to let fall, they turned the handles, opening a pathway back to Asgard.

Then there was nothing left but the blue wisps of magic, curling up into the sky.

If Loki thought about it, it all started the day he stole in to Odin’s treasure room. But Loki couldn’t think anymore.


	2. An Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sif worries about Thor, while Thor worries about Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for how long it took me to update this fic... I am eternally sorry.
> 
> Many thanks once again to my betas Soundandvision and Bottledminx

**An Understanding**

It had been almost three months--three months since Thor had reappeared in the throne room with the Cask of Ancient Winters and a wasted hollow-eyed Loki in tow.

Sif worried her bottom lip with her teeth as she strode through the halls of the All-father’s palace. Thor had been avoiding them more and more lately, seeking solitude and silence to brood in his increasingly troubled and dark moods. Sif hadn't asked, but suspected she knew the reason. She had been there when the guards had dragged Loki before the All-father for sentencing; had seen the panicked look in his eyes as he had been dragged from the room,silently struggling. She shivered. Loki had been their friend, and if it effected her to see what he had become. She couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be his brother.

She turned a corner and spied Thor. He sat on the edge of a balcony gazing out into the stars of an Asgardian twilight, alone again but for Mjolnir. She sighed, approaching him and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder in greeting.

He started, turning to see her. “Lady Sif....”

She settled down beside him on the polished marble, her legs dangling over the edge. “I thought I might find you here.”

Thor’s answering smile was warm, but strained. Everything about Thor was strained lately.

They sat in companionable silence as the twilight slipped away into true night.

She bumped his shoulder gently with her own. “Your thoughts grow troubled, Thor, “ she murmured quietly. Startled, he glanced at her, before chuckling mirthlessly.

“My thoughts, as ever dear friend, are with my brother,” he admitted. “I worry about him.”

Sif sighed. “You are too forgiving; how can you still worry for him after what he has done?”

Thor tipped his head forward, his hair obscuring his features. “What indeed....”

Sif turned sharply, a note of warning in her voice, “Thor...” 

For a moment he was silent before taking a deep breath and turning his piercing gaze on her. “What has Loki done, truly?”

“You know the answer to that. You of all people should know.”

Thor shook his head, “But do I?” He turned his body to regard her fully. “You saw him, Sif, I know you did. He was mad, sick--that was not the Loki we knew.”

“Thor, be that as it may--”

He held up a hand cutting her off, “Please Sif, hear me out. I do not think my brother was in control of himself.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Explain then, I will listen.”

Thor smiled gratefully. “He always said you were the most temperate of us all....” The smile slipped away. “I’ve...seen things Sif, on Midgard. The type of magic I would have gone to my brother to ask about, were he not the one wielding it.”

Sif frowned, but didn’t interrupt. Thor seemed hesitant, as if fearing his words inadequate to his brother defense.

“You remember my friend Erik Selvig, the one who works with my Jane?” 

Sif nodded.

“Loki had a staff...something created of the Tesseract. It allowed him to steal people's hearts, to control their minds.”

She gaped in horror, but Thor held up a placating hand begging her silence a few moments more.

“It’s alright, he is well, I spoke to him after and he described the experience. He said that the staff locked a part of himself away, and filled the resulting void with whatever emotions would make him more pliable, more receptive to its purpose. In his case it was wonder, excitement, and knowledge. He likened the experience to dreaming, being fully aware of his actions, but unable to control them.”

Sif’s eyes widened in understanding. “And you believe this is what has happened to your brother?”

He nodded grimly. “But in my brother’s case, I fear wonder and excitement were not appropriate motivators.”

Her face paled. “Thor...if this is true...,” she shook her head. “What proof do we have?”

Thor’s face brightened slightly, the use of ‘we’ instead of ‘you’ not going unnoticed 

“Nothing tangible I fear,” he sighed. “You saw the severity of his moods, wild and unpredictable. He attacked us viciously, screaming nonsense. Loki has always been more...sensitive...but this type of wanton destruction is not like him, even at his worst, everything I knew of him was gone. I believe that his actions are proof enough of the cube’s influence but after the battle when my brother woke, he said something. Though I was too incensed to listen then, I am told it was a joke, he asked the Man of Iron to join him in a drink. Then Shield put him in restraints, and he couldn’t speak at all.”

Her frown deepened. “A joke is not much to go on; what makes you believe he is not still under the cube’s control?”

Thor grimaced. “It was his actions as I brought him home to seek the All-Father’s punishment. Before, on Midgard, when I tried to reason with Loki to cease his mad schemes he would avoid my gaze, return my words with poisonous barbs. If I tried to touch him he would slap my hands away. After the battle he seemed desperate for acknowledgement, constantly seeking my gaze or physical contact.... I am ashamed to say I denied him both in my anger.” He scrubbed a hand across his face turning away. “It wasn’t until I had calmed down and had time to think through the events with a clear mind that I even realized something might have been wrong this whole time.”

Sif sat silently for a moment, faced with an uncomfortable truth; had they all misjudged Loki so greatly?

She lay a hand gently on Thor’s arm. “Have you been to see him? Maybe if we could just speak with him....”

Thor shook his head, “My Father forbids me access to the dungeons. He is afraid, I suspect, that I will do something rash and upset the fragile peace he has forged with Jotunheim’s new ruler.”

Sif narrowed her eyes, “I don’t understand, how would your visit--”

“An envoy from Jotunheim are in charge of my brother’s punishments,” Thor interjected darkly. “The All-father must suspect I will not approve of their methods.”

Sif’s face hardened, “The Frost Giants are in charge of your brother’s punishment?”

Thor nodded grimly, “Aye, it was part of the treaty agreement. The Jotun do not trust the All-father to punish his son in a matter equal to his crimes.”

Sif turned away, staring into the deepening night as she worried her bottom lip once more. They sat quiet again for a long moment before she spoke again.

“What if....” She caught Thor’s gaze, as he raised a questioning eyebrow.

“What if I did it?” she finished

Thor cocked his head, “I apologize Sif, but I don’t follow....”

“What if I went to see Loki?”

Thor sucked in a breath sharply, searching her face.

“I made it rather clear during his trial that there was no love lost between us, the guards would have no reason to suspect my motives.”

Thor breathed out slowly, his piercing gaze still trying to read something from her expression.  
“And you true motive would be...?” he began carefully, failing to keep the hope completely from his expression

Sif sighed, “Oh Thor, my motive is to see if this theory of yours is true. It’s to find out if I...if we all have wounded your brother as deeply as you seem to think. To see if a man I once counted as my friend still resides in the twisted thing you brought back.” She stared at him pointedly. “My true, motive is to keep the very expression you have been wearing these past few months from your face.”

And there it was. Thor’s broad smile was blinding as he roughly clasped her arms, tears creeping into his eyes. He pulled her forward embracing her tightly, his next words muffled by her hair.

“You are truly my greatest friend, Sif. In all worlds”

She felt her face flush and after a moment batted his arms away, standing abruptly. 

“I shall go to Heimdall, he has ever been on your side in matters such as these.”

Thor nodded, “Then we shall--”

“We shall do nothing, Thor,” she interrupted. “You need to stay unconnected from this as much as possible.”

He nodded soberly. “The Jotun...I understand.”

She started to move away when Thor caught her arm. “Thank you, Sif.”

“I’m only going to speak with him, I can’t promise you any more.”

He nodded releasing her arm once more.

“That’s all I can ask of you.”


	3. Darling Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sif gets an audience with Loki.  
> It's not what she expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always to Soundandvision for being an amazingly patient Beta!

**Darling Boy**

Sif fiddled with the clasp on her cloak as she made her way down to the palace dungeons. Her meeting with Heimdall had been...unnerving. The Guardian had been a stone faced as ever but, had readily agreed to assist her in getting approval for visitation. What had made her uncomfortable, however, was his assumption that she was staging a jailbreak. She had assured him that she had no wish to do something quite so dramatic and disobey the All-Father’s will, but he merely responded cryptically: “The binds of ruling have forced Odin to a course of action that lessens him, none of us will be defying the All-Father’s will today.”

Perhaps Heimdall, and his all knowing gaze, can see a truth she can not.

Regardless, it was nice to know he would have an escape ready, should she and Loki need it. Not that she was planning anything of the sort.

_Gods_ , she shook her head to clear it. She was going to listen to Loki’s story, nothing more.

Rounding the corner she schooled her features into indifference, as she approached the guard. He waved her by muttering something about Heimdall sending word as she gripped the heavy iron pull and entered the dungeon proper.

The first thing to hit her was the smell.

She staggered with the force of it, her stomach flipping uncomfortably. It smelled of unwashed bodies, sickness and despair. And something else...burning...blood.

Her heart dropped and she paused a moment to gather her resolve, her hands fisting in her cloak; something was horribly wrong. Cautiously she moved into a wide circular room, torches burned in a line high on the wall, giving light where there were no windows. She could see a table on the far end holding sinister shapes next to a trough of water and what appeared to be a forge. 

Two figures crouched in the center of the room, over a third, both of their skins Jotun blue.  
She cleared her throat and they startled. The larger one cut an impressive figure, towering well over twice her height, his light colored ridges spinning out a ragged pattern over his skin, red eyes burning in the shadows. The smaller one she had actually mistaken for a child at first, but as he approached she could see he was an adult...just much much smaller. He stood only a head taller than she, with softer edges, and was dressed not unlike a servant.

A runt, her mind supplied, just like Loki. 

After the trial, Thor had related what the All-Father had told him about Loki’s heritage and origins, and it had made her shudder. A baby, abandoned to the elements...simply for being small.

The larger of the two Frost Giants must have misinterpreted the disgust in her eyes, because he snorted a laugh.

“Don’t worry, he’s a mute,” he sneered. “They cut the tongues out of his kind, don’t want to hear them whine”

The small one looked away; Sif set her jaw.

“I am here to speak with the prisoner.” 

“Good luck with that,” he chuckled darkly moving to exit the room. “I needed a break anyway.”

The runt glanced at her curiously but did not move to leave, he instead retreated to the far wall, leaving Sif to the crumpled body on the floor.

“Loki?” she ventured suddenly hesitant. 

Facing away from her, Thor’s brother did not respond, his tunic was in ribbons and his long black hair was plastered to his head and neck in filth, obscuring his features.

Then there was the smell; the one that had assaulted her upon her entrance...it was coming from him.

Sif crouched down reaching out to touch his shoulder, to turn him over. A horrible feeling of dread growing in her pit of her stomach.

_Please, don’t be dead...._

The instant she made contact his entire body jerked like a live wire. His arms were still bound in the same restraints they had been when she’d last seen him, his fingers scrabbling weakly against the cobblestone floor for purchase. She rolled him towards herself, trying to calm him, but he only beat at her chest and arms frantically, the blows as light as bird wings.

“Loki--” she gasped finally taking in the whole of him. “Oh Gods....”

The All-Father can’t have known--he couldn’t have.

If she had thought him wasted thin before, he was positively skeletal now. Brittle skin stretched sharply over cheekbones and ribs, his eyes bulging, casting about blindly as his head lolled. It was obvious the mask had not even once been removed, the skin around it cut and swollen.

She choked back a wounded noise as she got a better look at his arms and chest. There were burns...so many burns. Old partially healed wounds crisscrossed with new ones, parts of his coat fused to the skin, some of them angry red and festering.  
She gathered him to her chest; unclasping her cape and wrapping it around his struggling frame, she caught the Runt watching her.

She held his gaze evenly, holding Loki as still as possible while his struggles weakened. The small Jotun shuffled slightly closer cocking his head at her questioningly.

She narrowed her eyes.

“Has--” she winced as her voice cracked. “Has he even been fed since he came here?”

The Jotun shook his head, looking sad.

“What--can you tell me what you’ve done to him?”

The man winced and slowly nodded. He stood and moved over to the table picking up a metal rod with heavy leather gloves and plunged one end of it into the forge. When the metal was red-hot he brought it over by Sif and gestured that she should lay Loki down.

She scowled, “I wasn’t asking you to punish him in front of me.”

The Jotun shook his head holding up a placating hand, then touched the brand to his own arm, his mouth opening in a soundless cry. Sif lunged forward swatting the brand out of his hand, as he sank to his knees.

“What are you doing?!”

The Jotun cracked open a pain-filled eye and offered her his injured arm to inspect. She gasped in shock. The area that the brand had touched had simply...ceased to be.

He struggled to his feet and with her help made it over to the basin of water where he plunged his arm beneath the surface. In moments it had frosted over. His face relaxed in obvious relief and when he removed his arm it was whole again.

Water. Frost Giant. It made sense, but....

“I don’t understand, what does this have to do with...?” 

The runt moved back to Loki and placed a hand on either side of his face, cupping his head. Sif gasped. The instant his skin had touched Loki’s the deep azure hue of the Jotun spread across Loki’s skin, delicate light colored ridges raising on his face, arms and chest.

The Jotun gestured to Loki, then to himself.

“You’re...the same?”

He nodded.

“They’ve been burning him...while he’s in Jotun skin.” Her mind raced, finally putting the scraps together. “And the water...they use that to what, keep him alive when they go too far?”

The other man nodded hesitantly.

“But he’s gotten too weak; it’s not working anymore is it?”

The man shook his head looking regretful.

She held his ruby colored gaze for a moment, willing her heart to slow. The Jotun let Loki go, and his skin paled sluggishly, turning slowly back to the form she knew. The runt gestured to Sif and then Loki, pantomiming picking him up, then gestured to the door.

“What about your superior?”

He shook his head, waving a hand as if it were of no consequence.

She stared at him. “Why are you helping me?”

He gestured to Loki, and then to himself, and she understood. Because they were the same.

Nodding shortly, Sif gathered Loki to her chest, obscuring his features as well as she could with the cloak. Sif braced herself to lift the much taller man, only to almost topple over backwards, having overcompensated for his diminished weight. She bit her lip, angry tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Now was not the time to dwell on it, she had to get him to safety.

She ran.

The guard at the door was no match for her as she burst through, slamming into him hard. His head struck marble with a resounding thunk; he didn’t get up. She felt Loki rouse slightly in her arms, his fingers peeking out of the cloak to wind themselves into her shirt. If she held him a bit more closely because of it, there was no one around to comment.

She had run. It seems Heimdall had seen the truth after all.  
She found herself outside of Thor’s chambers bellowing his name. He burst through the chamber doors in full regalia, Mjolnir already sparking into the brass fixtures. He stopped short at the sight of her, a thin hooded figure in her arms, leaning in to her chest.

“Lady Sif, is that...?”

“Thor there’s no time, we must go.” She spun walking quickly down the hallway ahead of him while he scrambled to keep up.

“Sif, please...what is wrong?”

“To hear Heimdall tell it, we’re ‘fulfilling the will of the All-Father’,” she said bitterly.

“Sif!” he grabbed her arm spinning her to face him, his blue eyes desperate.

He hesitated, his hand half reaching for the cloak that hid his brother from him.

“Don’t,” she warned him.

He stopped but didn’t pull back, “Why?”

“If you pull the hood back...if you see him right now....” She shook her head, “There won't be anything I can do to stop you, and Asgard will go to war.”

His face hardened. “Sif--”

“No, Thor. Please, I know it is against your nature, but if ever there was a time to give up control and just trust...now would be that time.”

He clenched his fist, retracting it to his side and nodded grimly.

“We need to get to Heimdall, he said there would be a way out.” She glanced down to the fragile man in her arms, “For all of us.”

By running in shadows they made it to the Bifrost with little incident, Heimdall stood at its jagged edge, as always, her silent sentinel.

“Heimdall, open the Bifrost!” Thor called placing a hand in the small of Sif’s back urging her forward.

“I cannot,” the guardian said, his golden eyes impassive.  
“What?” Sif sputtered “You told me--you said--”

“I said you would have an escape, and you will.” He stepped to the side, revealing another figure clad in warm golds and gossamer fabrics.

“Thor.” 

Sif’s breath caught in her chest as Thor’s face paled, “Mother....”

Lady Frigga moved forward until she stood face to face with her son. “Dearest Thor, do not worry. I only wished to see my sons in person...before sending them away.”

“Mother?”

She smiled, but it was a fragile thing. “I will harness the energy needed to send you three to Midgard.”

Thors eyes widened, but his tongue was stilled as his mother laid a finger across his lips. 

“Hush now,” she murmured. “You will have your Jane...and I, as always, will have your father. What is time to ones such as we? I will see you again.”

He tilted his face down, and she kissed his forehead gently. “This is how it must be, Thor.”

He nodded silently as she turned to Sif holding out her arms.

“Lady Sif, may I please hold my son?”

Numbly she handed her burden off, Frigga sinking to her knees to cradle Loki in her arms. She pulled back the hood. Thor gave a strangled cry, and Sif gripped his arm cautiously, but he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from the tangle of dark hair and pale skin in his mother’s arms.

Tears ran from her eyes as she gently carded her hands in his hair, wiping clean paths on his face with the soft silks of her robe.

“What have we done to you?” she breathed leaning forward until her lips pressed against his battered forehead. “I’m so sorry, my darling boy.”

They stayed like that for what seemed like an age, Frigga murmuring softly to her youngest child, before Sif heard the horses.  
“Thor,” she hissed, shaking his arm urgently. He snapped to attention, rubbing a hand roughly across his eyes he turned.

“Mother,” he said urgently. “We are out of time.”

She raised her head, nodding softly. “Thor, can you please take him?”

Her son moved forward, picking up his brother as if he were made of glass. She stood and kissed him a last time on the cheek before moving back to stand next to Heimdall.

“Sif, thank you...truly. You have done me a service I can never repay.” Light enveloped her hands and expanded to encase Sif and her sons. “If you’ll indulge me, one last favor...?”

“Anything,” Sif responded immediately

Frigga smiled gently, “Take care of them?”

The light was blinding, and Sif felt a jerk deep inside of her, and she clamped on to Thor as tightly as she could as their bodies were ripped away from Asgard.


	4. Consensus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and company land on the roof... some people are happier to see them than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many many thanks to Soundandvision, as always!!

**Consensus**

“Sir?”

Tony groaned quietly burying his face further into his pillow, maybe if he just stayed still enough....

“Sir, I know you’re awake. I can monitor your pulse and brain activity at any time.”

Bruce huffed a laugh under the blankets next to him. Tony felt the corner of his mouth quirk up involuntarily, and he rolled over to wrap himself around the other scientist, all coiled muscle under a deceptively soft looking “academic” exterior. 

“Sir, it really is urgent.” Jarvis’s voice floated down from speakers in the ceiling impatiently. 

Bruce stretched, yawning, “Can we help you Jarvis?”

“Thank you Dr. Banner, yes,” the AI sniffed. “There is a large spacial anomaly forming directly over Stark tower.”

That got his attention. Tony sat up sharply, “What kind of anomaly are we talking about here?”

“I can not be certain, but it appears to be the type that appears when a link is formed between Earth and Asgard.”

Tony grinned sharing a look with Bruce who was shrugging on a pair of trousers. “Cosmic quarterback’s back on the home field, eh?”

“Indeed, Sir. I have informed Captain Rogers and the others, they will meet you on the roof.”

Less than five minutes later they strode into the blast shielded viewing area Tony had installed on the roof when Thor’s pretty little girlfriend had resumed her research in the tower’s lower levels. She didn’t know how to bridge the gap between worlds from their side, but if the borealis effect currently hanging over Midtown Manhattan was any indication, her attempts to anchor the eventual connection to a specific area were working fantastically. Too bad she and Selvig were currently in Sweden for a conference. 

Tony glanced over to where their assistant Darcy was currently filming the proceedings on her iPhone, her wavy hair caught up in a messy bun. Like the rest of them, with the notable exception of Rogers, she was still in her pajamas. 

Tony flopped into a deck chair not far from where Natasha sat on Clint’s lap, one hand lazily burying itself in his hair. He arched an eyebrow at their matching sleepwear, opening his mouth to comment, but thought better of it at Tasha’s warning look. He instead pulled out his phone and began looking over the readings Jarvis was taking, while Bruce wandered over to talk to the Cap.

After a few minutes of listening to Tasha and Clint speak in hushed tones, Tony was about to ask Jane’s assistant if this is how long these things always took, but he was cut off as a sonic boom slammed into the shields before he could open his mouth. Yelping, he dropped his phone, which skittered off to places unknown as he turned to face the pillar of light now slamming into his rooftop. Clint had slunk back to the far wall, knowing he worked better at range, but Natasha had, some crazy how, had pulled two previously invisible guns from her fitted sleepwear.

Good old Natasha.

“Jarvis, have my suit ready. Just in case,” he murmured, knowing the AI would hear him.

The light pulsed gaining in intensity until he had to shield his eyes. He felt Bruce at his back doing the same. Then, with a dull sounding thud, it was over. Tony blinked rapidly trying to clear his vision in the sudden darkness. He heard Cap move around the shielding, he didn’t hear Natasha, but assumed she was doing the same. Tony pressed his fingers into his closed eyes trying to dispel the bright afterimage burned into his retinas, when he felt Bruce tense.

“What on earth...?”

Tony opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was Xena: Warrior Princess, lying face down on the tarmac of his helipad. A few feet away Thor himself lay flat on his back pinned down by what appeared to be a corpse.

Yup. Just an average morning here at Stark Tower.

Bruce was staring at Thor, looking a little green, which meant one of two things: Either he was feeling a little under the weather, or everyone else was about to be. Tony poked him in the side arching a concerned eyebrow. “Okay?”

Bruce nodded swallowing heavily, “For the moment.”

“Good enough.” He strolled away patting Bruce’s shoulder reassuringly as he moved around the shielding. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he called. “Want to introduce us to your entourage?” 

Thor didn’t respond, but “Xena” seemed to be coming around. She groaned, pushing herself up onto her knees and pinching the bridge of her nose. Tony ignored Cap’s warning “Stark” and crouched down to be face to face with her.

“Hey there Artemis, new in town?”

She glared, swatting his offered hand away and getting to her feet. She assessed him for a moment, and evidently finding him about as threatening as a kitten, turned away moving to Thor’s side.

He followed, “Not feeling real chatty I see.”

“I will answer you, when you have said something of any consequence,” she snapped checking over Thor. She moved what Tony now realized was a breathing body, to lay flat on the ground adjusting the cloak around its form.

Tony thought he heard Clint snicker somewhere behind him, in his periphery Natasha lowered her guns.

“Okaaay...why don’t you tell us your name then, sunshine?”

She shot him a look before lightly slapping Thor’s face in an attempt to rouse him.

“I am Sif, of Asgard.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere, Hi Sif, I’m--”

“I know who you are, Man of Iron,” she slapped Thor harder. “Thor has spoken of all of you at great length, particularly of you and your oratorical...gifts.”

This time he definitely heard Clint laugh, Cap looked like he might swoon in admiration at any moment. Sif slapped Thor one more time snapping his head to the side, and he finally groaned. She smiled in relief, shifting back to the cloaked wrapped...zombie looking guy.

Speaking of: “So, Sif,” she turned to look at him impatiently. “What’s the deal with ‘Night of the Living Dead’ over here?”

She squinted her eyes at him, clearly not getting the reference, but deciding it was insulting all the same she puffed up a bit forming a retort, but was cut off by Thor.

“We need sanctuary, my friends.” He sat up slowly, and rubbed the back of his head gingerly. Bruce moved to his side quietly, lightly moving his head back and forth and shining a light into his eyes.

“Thor,” Cap moved closer, “you’re a member of the team, you’ll always have a place here.”

Thor smiled ruefully; it didn’t look good on him. “You may not be so quick to offer, once I have asked you for a boon.”

Tony arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue, but instead sucked in a sharp breath as Sif pulled the hood off of the other figure, hugging him to her chest protectively.

He let out a slow whistle, recognizing the mask immediately, even if the man wearing it barely looked as he remembered.

“I have to admit big guy, he was someone I was kind of hoping to keep out of my house in the future.”

“Holy shit. Who is that, and what happened to him?”

Tony turned, he had completely forgotten Jane’s assistant was even here. She peeked out from behind a partition behind where Clint and Natasha had their weapons trained squarely on the emaciated god.

Thor’s expression brightened, “Lady Darcy--”

“He’s a murderer, that’s who he is,” Clint spat and Darcy’s eyes widened.

“He is my brother,” Thor rumbled back, his expressions turning dangerous. “And he is in need of help, of sanctuary.”

Tony couldn’t stop the bark of laughter that bubbled up inside of him. “And you thought ‘Hey, you know where a great place to take my _mass murdering brother_ would be? Home base!’” he shook his head in disbelief. “I mean, come on buddy, even you couldn't have thought there wouldn’t be a bit of resistance here. Our whole team name is based on avenging a man... _a friend_...that he killed.”

Tony blinked, suddenly realizing that Bruce had moved to Sif’s side and asked her permission to check Loki over.

“Banner, _seriously?_ ” he scrubbed a hand over his face. “You’re killing me here.”

Bruce didn’t even look up, “He’s in need of medical assistance, I’m a doctor.” 

“Whatever they did to him, he deserved it,” Clint said ominously.

Tony flung his arm backwards gesturing to Clint, “You see? The man has a point.”

“I wasn’t aware you had begun condoning the use of torture, Tony,” Bruce said in a deceptively quiet voice

And didn’t that just hit him where it hurt.

“Oh, I know you didn't just--after what I’ve--we are so not on speaking terms right now.”

“Guys, _enough_ ,” Cap was using his ‘big boy voice’ as he strode over to where Thor was moving to his feet. “We're not going to solve anything by bickering on a rooftop.”

He crossed his arms addressing Thor directly, “We’ll get your brother the medical attention he needs.” He held up a hand quickly cutting off any protests, “ _But in return_ , we will need to keep him as a prisoner of war. He’ll have to be guarded at all times, and he’ll be treated as a prisoner. Is that going to be okay with you?”

Thor nodded, “These are acceptable terms, Steve Rogers. I am confident that once he is more himself, Loki will be able to explain his actions in a satisfactory manner in which to gain his freedom.” Tony snorted and Thor glanced over to his still unconscious brother continuing much more softly, “I am also confident you will treat your prisoners with more care than my own people have.”

Cap nodded glancing over to Loki’s wasted form, “I’m starting to get that feeling too.”

Clint snarled and turning on his heel storming back inside; Natasha quick on his heels after a short nod to Cap.

“We should get him down to Medical, he’s in a pretty bad way,” Banner murmured to Thor as he stood. “I’ll do everything I can.”

Thor nodded, scooping up his frail brother as they all filed back inside.

\---

As soon as Thor had laid Loki down on one of the stark surgical tables in medical, Bruce promptly ordered everyone from the room.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

Bruce slowly peeled away what remained of Loki’s clothing. “Can you do a check on Loki’s vitals, and monitor them for me? I need to know what I'm working with here.”

“Yes, sir,” the AI replied. Then after a moment, “What would you like me to compare them to, sir?”

Bruce blinked. “Um, Thor, I guess,” he hesitated. “We do have Thor on file, don’t we?”

“Yes, sir,” Jarvis replied pleasantly. “But that is not the problem.”

He arched an eyebrow, “Oh?”  
“No, sir, Thor and his brother here do not appear to be the same species.”

“What?”

Bruce glanced up from his patient in shock, to look through the surgical studio window. Thor stood, his hand pressed up against the glass as if he could infuse his brother with his own life force. Then he remembered, before on the Helicarrier, Thor’s proclamation that his younger brother was adopted.

Well, wasn’t that the understatement of the year.

Bruce sighed, removing his glasses in a practiced gesture, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess we’re starting from scratch then,” he muttered wearily. It wasn’t until he had replaced his glasses that he noticed Sif in the room.

“I’m sorry, miss, but I really need you to--”

“I can help,” she blurted out. “Please, I am accustomed to treating wounds on the field, and I know a little of Jotun physiology.”

“Jotun...I’m guessing that refers to our friend here?”

Sif nodded, “I believe your stories refer to them as ‘Frost Giants,’” she grabbed a scalpel off of his tray and began cutting material away from Loki’s body. She frowned touching an undamaged part of his arm lightly.

“He is far too warm, fever has set in.”

Bruce moved to lay the back of his hand against the god’s forehead, “He does feel a little warm.”

Sif shook her head, “You do not understand, it is far higher than you fear. His normal temperature is much lower than yours.” She sighed continuing to remove the soiled and ruined clothes. “When he was a child we thought it a sign of his ill health and frailty...now I know better.”

He nodded, calling to Jarvis to have some ice sent in, and set up some fluids in an IV for his seriously malnourished patient.

“Okay, well I’m going to have to defer to your judgment regarding his physiology, but we need to get started.”  
She nodded, and grabbing a cloth and water began to clean the filth off of her friend, while he studied and dressed the wounds. They worked well together, and Bruce soon found his mind drifting back to the roof. 

What he had said to Tony had been a low blow, he knew it as soon as it had left his mouth. He felt bad but it had been necessary. Unfortunately necessity didn't stop the billionaire from stomping down to his own private bar, to presumably drink himself into oblivion.

Bruce sighed; he supposed apologies and no small amount of grovelling was in order, but that would have to wait until Loki was at least stable.

He realized Sif had been speaking to him for some time.

“I’m sorry, what?”

She looked at him strangely, “I was merely sharing Thor’s theory that his brother was being controlled, not unlike your Agent Barton.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “That’s... an interesting theory. I would certainly like to follow up on it when he is awake.”

“So would we all...,” she murmured, tying off a bandage.

Bruce looked to the window once more where Thor still stood sentry, Jane’s assistant Darcy running her hand up and down his arm in a comforting gesture, her lips moving with words he couldn't hear through the glass.

It was going to be a long night.


	5. Setbacks and Reconciliations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Tony work things out, Darcy's cat makes an appearence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Soundandvision, as always!
> 
> Also, to those of you that know me off of the internet, yes I really did mary sue my own asshole of a cat into this fic. (Although his name is Evanrude, not Mew)

**Setbacks and Reconciliations**

Bruce sighed, settling back into the visitors couch in Loki’s new room in the medical wing. Loki himself was barely visible in the plush hospital bed, sleeping fitfully under pale blankets, at the moment more mummy than man. He and Sif had spent hours patching him up, Bruce cleaning infected wounds while Sif had washed the filth from his hair and body. She had choked back a cry upon seeing the shredded state of his wrists and face once his restraints had been removed; gruesome injuries now hidden by soft white gauze and medical tape, only the bruising still visible.

He tilted forward and moved his glasses to the top of his head rubbing his eyes wearily. Thank God for Sif. He was rather sure he had figured out a good treatment plan with her help, but after a close call he wanted to monitor Loki to make sure he didn’t have any other adverse reactions to the medication. Thor had been adamant about staying at his brother’s side once they had moved him into a proper room but, within moments the sheer volume of emotions pouring off of the god had Bruce on edge, his nerves frazzled in the electric atmosphere.

It was a good thing then that Sif had suggested sparring to burn off Thor’s excess energy, because as Bruce himself had pointed out, Loki needed someone to monitor him and “The Other Guy” would make a dubious medical professional at best.

He sighed, rolling his neck to relieve some of the remaining tension, and wondered if he could get away with a short nap. Loki’s skin had begun to regain some of its elasticity and color, so the fluids were doing their job, and Jarvis would be monitoring his vitals....

He heard movement at the door.

Tony shifted in the entryway, uncharacteristically wrong-footed and awkward, his nearly white knuckled grip on the doorframe betraying his level of intoxication.

“Hey.” Bruce moved to get up, but Tony held up a hand halting him.

“Listen, just....” He ran a frustrated hand through hair that looked like it had already seen the motion several times. He weaved over to the couch plopping down with a huff. “Just tell me you don’t think I’m like them.” The words tumbled out of his mouth in a slurred rush.

Bruce’s brow creased in confusion, “Like them?”

Tony hedged, refusing to meet his gaze, his face haunted, “Kidnappers…torturers...like Obadiah.”

He felt like someone had punched him, “God, Tony, no!”

“Because I don’t think that way...or I don’t think that I think that way...God, I don’t know….”

Bruce bracketed the other man’s face in his hands forcing him to look into his eyes, “Tony Stark, you are a good man. You may be a stubborn jackass sometimes, ” Tony laughed brokenly as Bruce continued, “but you could never be Obadiah Stane.”

He leaned forward resting his forehead on Tony’s and closing his eyes.

“Tony, you took a nuclear missile, aimed at Manhattan, and brought it on what you believed to be a one way ticket through an alien portal to protect earth. Obadiah was a megalomaniacal warmonger, who nearly destroyed parts of California to kill you and take your company.” He heaved a sigh, “There’s no comparison.”

Tony smile weakly, “I’d also have to lose some stuff up top, and gain a little something more around the middle.”

Bruce huffed a laugh and tilted his face up to kiss the bridge of Tony’s nose lightly before he pulled back, guiding the other man’s head to his chest.

“Sleep it off, you’ll feel better in the morning.” Tony made a noncommittal sound melting against his body. Eventually, with Bruce’s hand running through his hair, his breathing slowed as he drifted off to sleep. Bruce wasn’t far behind, even though he knew that falling asleep sitting up would be hell on his back.

It might have gotten to that point too, if the screaming hadn’t woken him up a few hours later.

Sitting up violently, and unceremoniously dumping a still intoxicated Tony on to the floor, he fumbled for his glasses as he lunged toward the bed. Loki’s voice was raw as he strained and thrashed with wide unseeing eyes. Bright spots of blood seeped through his bandages, spraying in droplets on the sheets from a place on his hand where the IV had been, now jerked out and hanging at the side of the bed. Bruce grabbed his shoulders firmly, attempting to hold him still while Tony stumbled to his feet.

“Jarvis?!” he barked at the AI, struggling with the still weak, but wildly thrashing god.

“His heart and respiratory rate are dangerously elevated, sir...but his brain patterns indicate he is still asleep.”

Bruce winced, “Night terrors?”

“Likely, sir.”

“Well he would be a prime candidate, “ he muttered to himself shaking the god gently in an attempt to snap him out of it without further aggravating his injuries. “Loki!”

Tony moved to the opposite side of the bed, wide-eyed as Bruce’s attempts to rouse his patient failed.

Suddenly he slapped the thrashing man sharply across the face, “Hey, Sybil! Snap out of it!”

“Tony!” Shocked, Bruce turned to him an admonishment on his tongue. Then he realized Loki had gone still, wide green eyes locked on Bruce.

“Holy shit, is he actually looking at you?” Tony leaned in and Loki’s eyes tracked the movement to the new face. “He is!”

“Loki, can you understand me?” Bruce let go of his shoulders, waving a hand in front of the frightened man’s face slowly to regain his attention.

“Loki, it’s Doctor Banner, do you remember me?” he reached out to check his injured hand, but Loki jerked back failing to stifle a panicked noise. He pressed himself as far down into the covers as he could manage from his prone state, and Bruce had no doubts that if he were able he’d be trying to phase through them.

“Looks to me like he remembers you just fine,” Tony snorted, earning him a glare. Bruce jabbed a finger in the direction of the couch and the billionaire held his hands up in surrender moving to sit down.

Schooling his features into a less murderous expression, Bruce turned back to his patient. “You’re safe here, Loki. I’m not going to hurt you, at least not intentionally, but I have to check your injuries to make sure you didn’t rip anything too badly, okay?”

The god didn’t respond, but he didn’t try to jerk away when Bruce reached for him either, so he must have understood if nothing else. Loki watched him, tense but silent, as he redressed the wounds that had bled through their bandages, and replaced the IV line. As he worked, Bruce noticed the other man’s eyes drooping, lucidity draining away as his fever spiked again, and though he fought it sleep came to claim him again.

Bruce released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and searched the storage area under Loki’s hospital bed, straightening up with soft hospital restraints in hand. He carefully strapped the god into his bed, mindful of his injuries.

“Kinky,” Tony quipped, seeming a bit more sober

Bruce rolled his eyes, “It’s just a precaution. I don’t want him to wake up like that again and damage himself further.”

Tony nodded, slinging an arm over the back of the couch in a silent invitation to join him. 

“Honestly, I’m surprised he woke up at all with the state he’s in.” Bruce sighed, sinking down into the couch and resting his head on Tony’s shoulder, “I guess we can chalk that up to ‘Weird Alien God’ physiology.”

Tony hummed, tapping absently on the hard surface of his arc reactor through his thin cloth shirt with blunted fingernails. After a moment, Bruce chuckled, “Really, Tony...Sybil?”

“What can I say, I’m a man of varied theatrical tastes.”

“I can’t believe you slapped him,” he murmured threading an arm around Tony’s waist.

“I can’t believe you were shocked, the man threw me out of a window if you recall.”

Bruce nodded, yawning as Tony’s arm came to rest around his shoulders. “’m sorry…for what I said before,” he mumbled into Tony’s chest.

“Go to sleep, Doc.”

“Mmm....”

This time he managed to get a couple more hours in before the screaming started again.  
\----

Darcy flopped unceremoniously onto the couch, clutching her squirming tabby cat to her chest. 

It had been three days since Thor had crash landed on the Helipad to Stark Tower, and in that time things had only been going downhill. Three days of his little brother waking up screaming in terror every couple of hours and though he had lost his voice after the second day it wasn’t any less disturbing without sound.

Loki wasn’t improving. It had looked promising at first, the IV treated his dehydration and he had even been awake and alert for short periods of time, but it never lasted. His wounds couldn’t heal with him straining against his restraints all the time and he couldn’t seem to shake the fever and infection.

She had heard Dr. Banner telling Thor that it was because he couldn’t seem to rest, but he didn’t want to use sedatives because he didn’t know how Loki’s alien biology would react to them.

She sighed; rest was something they all could use. The Avengers were taking shifts watching Loki, so that someone would always be there to wake him up before he could hurt himself. Well, everyone except for Clint, whom she hadn’t seen since that first night on the roof. 

Thor had punched his way through every single practice dummy and heavy bag in the gym, Captain Rogers and Stark had taken to bickering in corners and hallways, and Banner was so tightly wound he looked like he might Hulk out at any moment. Sif and Natasha kept to themselves, frequently having to play peacekeeper.

Finally Darcy had decided that enough was enough; she grabbed her iPod, her cat, and her laptop and stormed into the hospital room ordering a bewildered Tony Stark to get some real sleep and not to come back until they had figured out how to deal with Loki’s problem.

Darcy was a college student, no sleep was no problem--besides, it was almost mid-term.

Her cat bit her hand and she swore letting him down to prowl the corners of Loki’s room. He immediately crossed the linoleum floor and jumped into bed with the Norse god.

“Fuck,” she scrambled to her feet snapping at the black and tan feline. “Mew, get down!” 

She had only been watching Loki for what, like, five minutes? And already she was endangering his life with the ill-tempered ball of fangs and claws that she called a pet.

He looked at her with as much disdain as he could muster (which being a cat, was a lot) then promptly ignored her circling once before settling in on the blankets and purring loudly, his paws kneading the fabric on Loki’s chest.

She held her breath watching, prepared to risk a severe scratching if need be, but nothing else happened. If anything it looked like the battered man was resting a little easier, the crease between his eyebrows smoothing out. 

When nothing horrible had happened she slowly breathed out reaching to scratch Mew behind his ears. The cat made a pleased sound stretching out along side Loki who himself shifted slightly in his sleep.

He looks so lonely...,she thought reaching out unconsciously to move away strands of hair that had plastered to his face and he turned his head, leaning into the touch. She stayed for a moment, running her thumb lightly across a prominent cheekbone before shaking herself mentally and moving away.

“Awesome Darcy, creep on your boss’s boyfriend’s little brother while he’s unconscious. A little brother whom, I might add, almost killed everyone in Manhattan three months ago--that’s a totally sane and logical thing anyone would do,” she muttered under her breath reaching for a washcloth to wet in the attached bathroom. When she returned to the room she gently cleaned him up a little and then moved back to the couch to work on her term paper, leaving Loki to the ministrations of her suddenly extremely cuddly cat.

And wasn’t that just weird....

She typed for a few hours, and napped for quite a few more before a gentle hand was shaking her awake.

“Darcy?”

She cracked an eye. Dr. Banner still looked tired, but less like he was about to lose it.

“Hmm?”

“I thought you might want to get some dinner,” he smiled gently. “I see Loki’s got a new friend; how long has he been asleep?”

Darcy sat up blinking sleep from her eyes “I dunno,” she yawned. “What time is it?”

“About seven.”

“Shoot, um...I guess like...nine hours or something?” she glanced over, but he didn’t have appeared to have moved at all, so that must have been right. “When was the last time he woke up on Tony’s shift?”

Dr. Banner’s eyes were wide with shock, “Jarvis?”

“Mr. Laufeyson has been asleep for ten hours and thirty six minutes, sir,” the AI supplied. “A new record for him.”

He grabbed Darcy’s arms, his excitement tangible, “Darcy, what have you done since you took over? Anything unusual?”

“No, nothing,” she shook her head. “After I was relatively sure Mew wasn’t going to shank him in his sleep or anything I just wiped his face and came over here to work on my paper.”

Banner’s gaze slid over to the bed to focus on Mew.

“It must be the cat then, it’s the only other variable that’s changed,” he let go of her moving to Loki’s bedside. 

“It is possible, sir. A cat’s purr has been hypothesized to be a sound of contentment as well as an overture to forming new relationships with other beings,” Jarvis supplied helpfully.

“So it could be soothing his subconscious on a basic level...,” Banner’s face lit up with discovery. “Jarvis could you replicate the noise?”

“Of course, sir,” he scoffed almost sounding offended as the scientist swept Darcy up into a grateful hug.

“You’re a genius!” he proclaimed sweeping out of the room.

Darcy stared after him perplexed, “Happy to help...?”

She locked gazes with her cat, who had startled awake at the commotion, and Mew cocked his head.

“Yeah, I don’t know either, buddy.”


	6. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor get a little bit of understanding, Loki gets confused, and Sif doesn't understand Steve as well as she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god I'm so sorry... I don't know why this chapter took me so long to write.  
> Thanks as always to Soundandvision for her wonderful Beta skills, and also for kicking my ass when I wasn't writing.

****

Progress

The morning Doctor Banner informed him that his brother had slept through the night Thor almost cried with relief. He joined Darcy as quickly as his legs could carry him, dragging a chair over to sit by Loki’s bedside, his large warm hands enveloping his brother’s cool thin one. He sat for hours staring at Loki, his brother motionless and pale, as Thor cataloged every injury. He would make this up to him, somehow--there had to be a way for them to be brothers once more.

Darcy’s phone chirped and after a short glance his way she stepped outside pressing it to her ear as she went.

Thor dropped his gaze to his brother’s pale hand running a calloused thumb over bony knuckles, and into the quiet he began to hum half forgotten lullabies the way their mother would when one of them took ill as children.

He felt so helpless. Thor had always been the more personable of the brothers, making friends easily, but it had been Loki that had excelled at caretaking. Loki who had bandaged Thor’s wounds after a brawl with the warriors three so their mother wouldn’t scold them, or whose words acted as a salve for his ego after a particularly emasculating loss to Sif in the sparring ring. Loki, who schemed and pulled pranks to raise Thor’s spirits and wove fantastic illusions with magic to entertain him one winter when he lay bedridden with illness; all while hiding his affection under a thin mask of indifference.

Loki whose heart secretly shattered when Thor wasn’t looking.

He didn’t realize he had been squeezing his brother’s hand until Loki made a nearly inaudible sound of discomfort in his sleep.

“Careful.”

Thor startled, jerking away from his brother whose hand twitched against the beds restraints; he hadn't even heard Doctor Banner come in. 

The man stood just inside of the doorway, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Sorry, I just wanted to check in on the patient here. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Thor nodded, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled shakily. He stood and moved silently back to the couch, Banner watching him curiously as he moved to Loki’s bedside.

“That was a beautiful song, is it from Asgard?” Bruce commented lightly as he looked Loki over. 

Thor flushed slightly, “Yes, although I fear I do not do it justice.”

Bruce hummed peeling the gauze away from his brother’s cheek, gently cleaning the wounds. “Well it sounded fine to me, are there words?”

Thor nodded, “Once, but I have forgotten them. Our mother used to sing it to us when we were small.”

Bruce’s smile was soft. “He’s lucky to have you, I don’t know if Clint would have bounced back as quickly as he did without Natasha.”

Thor’s eyes widened, “You believe me then, that my brother was not under his own power?”

The doctor chuckled ruefully. “Yes, I believe I do. I spoke to both Clint and Dr. Selvig about their experiences, I thought I might gain some...insight.” He glanced back over his shoulder, “You might say I know a bit about dealing with issues relating to loss of control.”

Thor nodded watching as the other man finished his ministrations, then waved him over.

“I think it’s safe to say that your brother magic is starting to come back,” he gestured to Loki.

The burns still looked ugly, but the cuts on his face had faded to thin pink lines, and the bruising was all but gone. 

Thor’s face brightened, “He is much improved!”

Bruce nodded, “It’s certainly progress.” He turned catching Thor’s eyes, “I hate to ask you this, but are we going to have to take any additional precautions?”

Thor’s brow creased, “I’m not sure I understand.”

Bruce gestured awkwardly, “For his magic I mean. I don’t really know how all of this works, but what if he wakes up with his destructive mojo full swing? This room’s not equipped to handle that kind of power.”

His face darkened, hands clenching on the metal railings of his brother’s bed, the metal groaning quietly under the pressure. Banner backed away a few steps, hands held in front of him in a placating gesture.

“Hey, easy...I already said I believed you, and I don’t think he’d do it intentionally, but you have to admit, your brother’s been through some pretty dark stuff.” He sighed frustrated, wiping his palms on his khakis, “that kind of thing leaves a mark.”

Thor relaxed slightly, gesturing to his brother. “Yes I can see that plainly, but I don’t understand what that has to do--”

Bruce shook his head, “No, that’s not what I mean. Well, I mean obviously he bares marks physically, but what I mean is in here,” he tapped two fingers to his temple, “and in here,” he moved his hand over his heart.

Oh.

“You mean to say you fear my brother insane.”

Bruce made a face, “Not quite.” He let out a breath. “Okay, let me try it this way. You’ve seen the way Tony doesn’t like to have things handed to him, right?”

Thor nodded.

“Okay, so why do you think that is?”

“Personality quirk?”

Bruce chuckled for a moment before sobering, “Tony has what we call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Not allowing people to hand him things is just one of the ways he copes with that. Before he was Iron Man, when he was just Tony Stark, he was captured...tortured. He was held against his will for months, with every bit of his life controlled by terrorists. He doesn’t like to talk about it much, but I know for a fact it still gives him nightmares. The Arc Reactor,“ Bruce tapped the center of his chest, “saved his life, and ended up being his salvation from the disgusting pit that they kept him in.

“Anyway, becoming a bit of a germaphobe was Tony’s way of subconsciously regaining a bit of that lost control, and it’s very important to him. Clint snuck into our room once while Tony was sleeping to get a closer look at the reactor, and as soon as he touched it Tony about put him through the wall. He didn't mean to, but his fight or flight instincts just kicked in. Do you see what I’m saying?”

Thor nodded, “You mean to say that Loki may lash out in fear without meaning to, not that he will awake insane and violent.”

“Exactly.”

Thor rolled his shoulders in an attempt to dispel some of the remaining tension there.

“They call it Soldier’s Heart on Asgard.”

Bruce quirked an eyebrow, “Really?”

“It’s a term Sif picked up on Midgard while studying one of your wars. She worked for a time as a medic in one of the camps, many years ago by your time.”

“That...explains a lot actually. She did mention having experience in field medicine,” he muttered distractedly.

There was a knock at the door and Darcy entered once more, this time loaded with sodas, pizza, and snack food.

“Food’s on, better get down there,” she grinned at them dumping her bounty on the low table near the couch. “Oh, and big guy? Jane’s back; she’s in the kitchen talking to Stark.”

Thor’s grin might have blinded her if she had looked directly at it. He leaned over his brother murmuring a quick promise to return and rushed out of the room. Bruce moved at a much more leisurely pace waving as he closed the door behind him.

Darcy settled in, dragging her food covered endtable over to the chair Thor had left by Loki’s bedside. She tidied it up a bit, listening to Jarvis’s looped recording of her cat purring before she finally glanced over to where Loki was lying still.

“You don’t have to pretend to be asleep, it’s just you and me here,” she said gently, watching his body tense slightly at her words. “I won't make you talk or anything, unless you want to.”

She waited a moment longer before she was rewarded with green eyes focusing on her curiously. She smiled, “There you are. Do you want a book or something? It must be boring to just lie there with your eyes closed for so long.”

Loki gave her a withering look, tugging lightly against his restraints.

“Right! Sorry, lemme get those off of you.” Darcy leaned over loosening the velcro straps until he could slip his bony hands through. He rubbed at his arms weakly, looking at her in obvious confusion.

She felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she quirked an eyebrow, “You’re not a prisoner here dude--well at least not like that. Those were for your own protection. You ripped your IV out while you were having a fit or something the other day.” She pointed to the needle taped into the back of one of his hands. Focusing on it he moved as if to pull the offending object out again.

“Hey wait--” she lurched forward reaching to stop him but he scrambled back suddenly, faster than she thought him capable of, slamming into the bars on the far side of the bed. He stared at her wildly, his chest rapidly rising and falling in short panicked breaths. She drew back, hands up, giving him a little more space.

“Sorry! Sorry, hey...it’s alright. I’m not gonna hurt you okay?”

He blinked rapidly, in an attempt to hold off tears that fell regardless, his shoulders trembling violently as he curled in on himself.

Darcy took a deep breath centering herself before trying again.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in a much calmer tone. “I should have warned you before I just came at you like that.” He wrapped his arms around himself, breath hitching as she sat down, keeping her hands in view. “Just...please don’t take out the IV, it’s medicine and it’s helping you get well, okay?”

Loki’s eyes flicked between her face and her hands for a few minutes before his breathing began to slow. Darcy moved deliberately, clearly telegraphing her movements as she grabbed a bottle of water.

“Do you want to try to drink something?” His eyes lit hungrily on the bottle and she chuckled. “I’ll bet. I had my appendix out when I was a kid and when I woke up from the anesthesia my mouth tasted like shit.” She stuck a straw into it standing very slowly to lean closer to him. His breath hitched, and she paused.

“I’m going to touch you okay?” she asked gently. “I promise I won’t hurt you if I can help it, but I’m guessing you’ll need some help.”

She stayed still, holding his gaze until he nodded minutely. She helped him to lay back comfortably against his pillows one of her hands holding his steady as he drank gratefully, and the other braced comfortingly at the back of his neck. After a moment she pulled away setting the half finished water back on the table. He winced slightly rolling on his side to watch her.

“Better?”

He nodded slightly, his gaze still questioning.

She smiled at him reassuringly, “You can nap a little if you’re tired, I’m not going anywhere.”

He watched her silently as she settled back into the chair balancing her laptop on her knees, and settled himself a little deeper into the blankets as she began to type once more luring him back to sleep.

\------------------------------

Sif punched in the codes the being called Jarvis had taught her into the coffee machine, pleased when it whirred to life with no complaints.

“Oh, I didn’t realize anyone was still up.”

She looked up and smiled, Captain Rogers hesitated in the doorway, his cheeks lightly pink. Sif liked the Captain. At first she had had a difficult time reconciling the self-effacing man he was out of costume with the strong leader she had witnessed upon her arrival, but she found she enjoyed the dichotomy.

“Good evening Captain!” she greeted him warmly turning to lean a hip against the counter. “Were you getting in some late night training?”

He flushed a slightly deeper pink, “Oh, uh...no. Just...couldn’t sleep.”

Her eyebrows knit in confusion for a moment before it dawned on her, he was blushing.

“I have embarrassed you,” she frowned, plucking lightly at the soft cotton “yoga pants” and camisole she had donned. “Is it these clothes? I borrowed them from Jane but I’m afraid I am unfamiliar with the current modesty rules in Midgard.”

He raised his hands taking a step closer, “N-no! Not at all, you look great--I mean, it looks fine!” He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I just wasn’t expecting anyone to still be up this late.”

She brightened reaching over to grab her coffee, “I am readying myself to take over for Lady Darcy.” She waved him over to the kitchen island as she perched on a stool, “Would you keep me company?”

He smiled softly choosing the chair across from her, “Of course, I was just planning to sit here and sketch, honestly.”

“I did not know you were an artist!”

His smile turned shy, “Oh, um...it’s just a hobby, it’s nothing terribly special.”

She grinned behind the lip of her coffee, “I am sure it is more than that. Do you always wait until the tower is quiet to do your art?”

He shook his head looking down to the marble countertop, “No, not always, sometimes I just do it when I need some peace.”

She set her mug down watching him trace the patterns in the polished rock, “Are you?”

He looked up, “Am I what?”

“In need of peace?”

He shifted awkwardly, “Sometimes.”

She hummed, watching him for a moment but he seemed reluctant to speak further on the subject. Sif frowned slightly, she hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable again. Taking a deep breath she slapped the counter top lightly as she slid out of her chair, grabbing her cup as she stood. 

“It is of no matter, let us retire to Loki’s room for the night and I will regale you with tales of Asgard and her princes.” She squeezed his shoulder as she passed him, moving into the hallway, and he smiled at her gratefully jogging after her.


	7. Don't Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy finds a better look for Loki.
> 
> (or in which the author playes fast and loose with Arthurian legend)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to Soundandvision for Betaing :)

Slowly, very slowly, time began to make sense again. It was disorienting at first, Loki slept in fits and starts, but someone was always there when he was awake. He would stay silent and still, ignoring the deep burning in his skin and muscles as their voices washed over him...assuring him he wasn’t alone. 

Not alone, never alone.... Not again.

He shivered curling in on himself, willing his mind away from dark places where his sanity frayed in silence.

“Loki?”

It was Darcy. He opened his eyes.

She hovered by the edge of his bed, her hands poised as if wanting to reach out but waiting for his permission.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to call Dr. Banner?”

He shook his head minutely and, after a moment of nervous hesitation, reached out his hand slightly, inviting her comfort. She slid one cool hand inside of his, the other coming to rest gently on the side of his face. He closed his eyes again leaning into her touch, her thumb tracing the now near invisible scars on his face, and felt warm inside.

Darcy had been his anchor. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to speak yet, he didn’t even know if he could, but she humored his elaborate game of charades with an easy smile.

She had happily talked about anything and everything, gesturing animatedly, and had more than once drawn a huff of amusement out of him that he hadn’t thought he yet possessed. He almost felt like a person again, albeit a horribly weak, magicless one.

Loki sighed. He knew his magic was unrestrained, he wore no runed cuffs, no mask...but he couldn't access it, and the loss ached far worse than his physical wounds.

He blinked his eyes open again taking in her concerned expression before offering a weak smile and squeezing her hand gently before pulling away to sit up gingerly against his pillows.

She smiled broadly patting his thigh.

“Good, I’m glad you're awake. Do you want to try eating something today?”

Loki grimaced and she tutted a finger at him.

“Hey man, you gotta eat sometime. Man can not subside on juice boxes alone.”

He brightened slightly making a grabbing motion for the aforementioned juice box and she rolled her eyes, vindictively stabbing the straw through the foil at the top before handing it over. He made a petulant face huffing at her, but accepted it all the same as a pleased smile spread on his face as he sipped.

Darcy was the only one who brought him juice, but she was also the only one who knew he was awake and lucid, a fact that baffled him. He didn’t know why she hadn't told anyone, but the instant she had realized that he was pretending to be asleep around the others she had sworn the invisible yet omnipresent Jarvis to secrecy.

It had been at least a week since then.

She had tried to get him to eat solid foods before but, he just couldn’t manage it. His stomach was too tight, the food too heavy...it gave him nightmares that he woke from retching.

The bed jostled drawing him out of his reverie. Darcy’s cat Mjöl stalked up to him plopping unceremoniously by the side of his chest. When she had told him with a smirk that she had named the animal “Mewmew” after his brother’s hammer, he rolled his eyes so hard he thought he must have pulled something afterward.

He scratched the creature behind the ears and it purred pleasantly.

If it had to be named for Thor’s hammer so be it, but he refused to call the creature “Mewmew”. At least this was a Mjölnir he could move.

Loki rolled onto his side, effectively trapping the cat within his arms and earning an light admonishing bite for his efforts before Mjöl returned to what was surely a strict grooming routine and ignored him.

Darcy leaned over catching his eyes.

“Hey, just to warn you, I have to leave for an exam in a few.” She glanced toward the door. “I think Stark is up next, but I can’t be sure. Your brother was making some noise about spending more time with you.”

Thor.... He felt his pulse ratchet up. 

He must have reacted visibly because she ran her hand over his arm in an attempt to sooth him. 

“Hey...it’s okay. You don’t have to talk to him if you don’t want to, he just wanted to see you.” She smiled at him reassuringly. After a moment she crossed her arms on the railing to the bed and resting her chin on them, contemplating.

“You know, he was trying to free you the whole time, right?”

What? Loki’s eyes went wide as Darcy nodded, “Sif told me. Apparently he was quite the nuisance. Sulking around, picking fights with your dad, threatening guards....you know...like you do.”

Thor had quarreled with the All-Father...for his freedom? To what end? Thor had finally seen what a monster Loki was, he had seen that when his erstwhile brother had presented him in chains to be judged. Judged by the same monsters that he--Loki gasped pulling away from Mjöl who had bitten him much harder this time. Darcy scolded the cat who hissed and jumped off of the bed to skulk about in other parts of the room.

“Sorry.” She looked sheepish for a moment, but then frowned. “No, you know what? I’m not sorry, because you were getting that ‘I’m a monster, no one loves me’ face on again, and that’s not true.” 

She gently cupped his cheek. “Look, if you were a monster”--she leaned forward her long hair tickling his nose--“would I do this?” 

His eyes went wide as warm lips pressed against his forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back. Something desperate inside him broke and he surged up chasing the sensation. She made a startled noise as he crushed their lips together. She melted into it gripping the back of his neck, kissing him forcefully until they were forced to part for air. He leaned his forehead against hers breathing heavily, his heart fluttering against his ribcage.

“Well, that was unexpected,” she huffed, sounding amused. 

He pulled away slowly and Darcy helped him to lie back down without pulling at his injuries any further. 

She smiled broadly, her eyes twinkling. “Oh look, we managed to get some color back into your cheeks.” 

He stuck his tongue out at her and she wrinkled her nose in retaliation. 

“It’s a good look on you,” she laughed eyeing the clock and picking up her satchel. “I really do have to go, if I fail this test I’ll be a research assistant for the rest of my life.” 

She tugged at his blankets smoothing them out and left her hand resting lightly on his chest for a moment. 

“Rest up, maybe take a nap. When I get back we should explore...this whole thing...a little more in depth.” She smirked at him wickedly and slipped out of the door leaving him momentarily alone under Jarvis’s watch.

He settled into his pillows, mind whirling with questions, but feeling lighter than he could remember feeling in a long time.

It wasn’t long before he dropped off once again.  
\------------------------------------------------------------  
When he next awoke it was to the low rumble of his brother’s voice. Loki carefully kept his eyes shut and his body lax. Darcy was somehow always able to tell when he was faking it, but his brother and the other members of his little group still seemed oblivious.

At least he still had that much power.

Thor was reading him a story, the same he had been reading every time his turn to sit with Loki came, in low tones that Loki would have previously thought his brother almost incapable of making. Thor was always loud and boisterous, with a guileless grin and a slap on the back just a hair shy of painful. But since the Captain had suggested reading (a feat Loki had known his brother capable of but had seen it so rarely that had begun to doubt) he was seeing Thor a changed man.  
Or rather hearing him, as he had yet to lay eyes on his brother since regaining some semblance of coherence.

He forced himself to relax and let his brother’s words wash over him, carrying the story of a warrior king and his trusted advisor, a magic user not unlike himself. Loki had been furious at the start, feeling his brother was mocking him with the parallels of the story to their own lives, but as the story progressed he began to see it for what it really was: an apology.

The king of the story was a good and just man, but he was also arrogant and frequently shortsighted, and Thor’s voice would frequently become strained with emotion any time he disregarded his advisor’s words.

He frowned, his brother’s voice sounded particularly hoarse today. How long had he been reading before Loki awoke? Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened his eyes a crack, glancing at the other man.

Thor didn’t look good. He wore his grief like chains, shoulders slumped and eyes ringed with lack of sleep. Loki stared at his brother, stunned. For such a large man he looked so small out of his armor, wearing midgardian clothes, shoulders curled in around the small paperback he read diligently aloud. Was it because of him? He hadn’t really managed to ask Darcy how long he had been here, on Midgard, sleeping but, it looked as if Thor had not slept in much longer.

He shifted slightly without thinking, rolling on his side as he was wont to do when interacting with Darcy trying to grab on to tattered edges of memories to form some sort of timeline. He was so intent that he nearly didn’t notice when Thor stopped talking.

Damn.

Loki glanced up tentatively meeting his brother’s wide-eyed gaze.

“Loki?” Thor’s arm moved in an aborted gesture towards the bed. “Brother, can you hear me?”

Loki hesitated before nodding minutely, moving slowly to sit up with his back pressed against the bed’s railing. 

His brother’s smile threatened to split his face, but his voice remained surprisingly soft. “I am relieved to see you awake.”

His face heated with shame as he dropped his gaze to his hands, clenching and twisting his sheets. He had been torturing Thor with his cowardice, pretending to be unable to wake. What a wretched creature he made.

“Brother?”

He felt a firm pressure on his shoulders and startled badly, recoiling away, only to rebound off of the bed’s railing. His face exploded in pain, and for a moment he couldn’t think to understand what had happened. He blinked tears out of his eyes focusing on Thor’s startled face, a hand pressed lightly to his brow. 

Loki gingerly touched his own face, his fingertips coming away tinged with red. Ah, he had split his lip...evidently on the rock-like substance that comprised his brother’s head. He pressed his sheet to his face to staunch an already impressive flow of blood, watching Thor warily. The other man looked horribly pained, far more than Loki though warranted given that he was the one currently bleeding.

“I’ve....“ Thor made another aborted gesture to touch him causing Loki to flinch. Thor looked as if he had just been struck. He clenched his fists by his side turning to face the door.

“I’ve hurt you again, ” he gritted out, voice rough with emotion. “I will go and retrieve Doctor Banner.”

As his brother started to move away Loki found himself, for the second time that day, impulsively acting without thought. His hand shot out, fingers finding their way to the hem of his brother’s shirt.

“Don’t go.”

It was rough, painful and barely audible, but Thor froze, eyes wide.

Loki tried again, but all he was able to produce was a harsh sounding cough. His brother perched once again on the chair beside his bed, cautiously holding out a glass of water.

“Hey Thor!” Darcy’s voice floated from the hallway. “Any idea why Jarvis wanted me to bring an ice pa--SWEET BUTTERY CHRIST.” 

She stopped in the doorway as if slamming into an invisible wall, “What the fresh hell is going on in here?!”

Thor took in the state of the room, the sheets and his brother mussed and bloody, and sheepishly offered: “It isn’t what it looks like?”

Loki snorted laughter into his water, doing nothing for his appearance. Darcy stalked angrily into the room wetting a washcloth and crawling into the bed beside Loki who turned obligingly, allowing her access to his injury.

She shot Thor a dirty look. “I certainly hope not, because it looks like you kicked the shit out of your invalid brother.”

The noise Loki then made was certainly not an undignified squawk. He batted her hands away and snatched the ice pack, scooting away until he could recline against the pillows, to hold it against his throbbing face sulkily.

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ugh, you know I didn’t mean it like that.” 

She leaned in to finish wiping the blood away, but he narrowed his eyes, turning his head stubbornly. 

“Oh my god, I’m sorry okay?” She blew out a frustrated breath. “I just...it startled me, you look like a crime scene right now.” 

She smiled gently. “Don’t be such a diva, or I’m going to start calling you Stark.”

He arched an eyebrow, but magnanimously allowed her to scoot in next to him, hip to hip. She only paused her ministrations for a second in surprise when he turned to his brother and rasped, “If you would like...to continue reading...that would be acceptable, brother.”

Thor’s eyebrows had hiked so far up his forehead in shock, Loki wondered for a moment that they weren't trying to take refuge in his brother’s hairline. He stared, dumbstruck for a second, before finally nodding. 

Loki lay back, closing his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in the soft warmth of Darcy by his side and the rumble of his brother’s voice spinning the story of a king, and the magic user that he considered a brother.


	8. Acceleration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Darcy get closer, a wild Clint appears, and Sif continues to misunderstand Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait...blame Derek Hale and the mount of feels he causes in me.  
> I had a brief period of "OMG I NEED TO WRITE TEEN WOLF RIGHT NOW." So I did for a little.  
> I also participated in a couple big bangs, but I'm back now!
> 
> Thanks as always to my beta Soundandvision.

**Acceleration**

Steve sighed heavily, staring at his phone as if it had personally offended him. Contrary to popular belief he did know how to operate touch screen, thank you very much, he just didn’t know if he should. Which is why Tony found Steve cutting an imposing figure at the kitchen’s island bar, shoulders tight, palms flat on the granite scowling at the little piece of tech.

“Whoa, easy there big guy. Only the birds are supposed to be angry.”

He looked up confused but Tony just waved a hand sliding onto the stool across from him. 

“Never mind, so what’s up?”

Steve hummed staring back at the countertop thinking. “It’s hasn’t rung.”

“Oooookay..?” Tony waited a moment, but when Steve didn’t elaborate he tapped the counter to get his attention again.

“Okay, I know I’m a billionaire, and a genius, but as I have a fantastic head of hair and am not a paraplegic I’m going to need a little more to go on here….”

Steve’s look clouded in confusion and Tony pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh,  
“Remind me to buy you a People magazine. What’s the problem, Cap?”

Steve frowned. “Loki’s been here for a few weeks now, don’t you think it’s odd no one has tried to contact us?”

Tony hummed. “I see, so what you’re saying is we’ve got our very own great white space whale on deck and you’re wondering why Captain Ahab isn’t beating down our door.” 

He leaned back rolling his shoulders. “I’ll grant you that ‘Asgard’s one and only rooftop lightshow’ wasn’t exactly subtle, but for all Fury knows that could have just been the Big Guy coming home.”

Steve looked doubtful, “I suppose, but it doesn’t seem like Shield to be uninformed.”

The scientist waved his hand dismissively, “Either way, the less Fury’s boring a hole in our back with his beady little eye the better in my opinion.” He quirked an eyebrow, “What’s got you all tied up in knots up about it anyway? I though we pretty much had established that Siegfried and Roy in the other room there wasn’t in his right mind when he attacked.”

Steve worried his bottom lip for a moment before answering.

“I still believe that....”

Tony arched an eyebrow, “...but?”

“But...his magic is coming back, and although I hate to say it, that raises his threat level a little, wouldn’t you say?”

Tony let out a low whistle before groaning, his head sinking into his hands. “Oh god, why is it always magic?” he whined. “I just finished rebuilding the tower, Cap. I just got it how I wanted it....”

Steve smiled a little inspite of himself. “Surely you have enough to cover the damages.”

Tony slapped a hand on the marble countertop. “Of course I do, but that’s not the point. It’s the principle of the thing Rogers. I’m not rebuilding my tower every other week because the children of the elder god are having a bad day.” He sighed, “Ugh, you might as well hit me with it, what’re the damages?”

“What? Oh, no there’s nothing damaged. At least not yet anyway.”

“How reassuring,” he deadpanned. “So what happened then?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Well, you see I was trying to track down Sif for lunch, that is...to ask her if she would like to eat lunch...if she hadn't eaten, that is....”

Tony arched an eyebrow, the corners of his lips quirking up.

The Captain cleared his throat pointedly looking back at the counter. “Anyway, Clint said that she and Tasha were in with Loki, but I must have been not paying too much attention when I opened the door, and I slammed it pretty hard against the wall.” He blushed, “I about scared Loki out of his skin. He teleported across the room and ended up with his back against the far wall.”

He sighed, “I don’t think he meant to do it, he seemed more surprised than we were, then just the biggest smile came across his face. At first he was laughing, overcome even, and he looked better than I had ever seen him...but then something seemed to occur to him and he panicked.” Steve hung his head, “It was awful, seeing him just crumple like that. Sif tried to help him, but he just clung to her gasping, couldn’t seem to calm down, then he just passed out.”

Tony nodded, silently pondering for a moment.

“So....”

Steve looked up to find the other man smirking.

“No lunch with Sif then?”

“Tony!” He laughed waving the captain off.

“Sorry! Sorry,” he chuckled into his coffee for a moment before looking up again. “Has it occured to you that what he was afraid of was this very scenario?”

Steve’s brow creased, “What do you mean?”

Tony gestured between the Captain and his phone. “This. I mean, has anyone told the poor guy that we’re not going to shackle him and toss him into a dark cell at the first sign of trouble?” 

Tony sobered, “I’m not exactly is number one fan, what with my unscheduled base jump out of my own entertainment room, but no one deserves being tortured in the dark. No one.” His eyes looked haunted for a moment before he scrubbed a hand over his face standing up abruptly.

“Call Fury or don't call Fury, it’s up to you. But know that torture isn’t something I condone, SHIELD sanctioned or not, so if you let tall dark and intimidating know about the magic, you should probably let him know that too.”

And with a last nod he stalked from the room leaving Steve to his thoughts.

__________________________

 

Loki woke slowly, Darcy at his back, and the reassuring thrum of magic under his skin. It had to be late afternoon if the sun warming his face was any indication, which meant….

He grimaced remembering his loss of control, he must have fainted because he didn’t remember anything after being consumed by the thought that they were going to shackle him again…although he got the vague sense that he may have attached himself to Sif like a limpet. 

He sighed rubbing his face with a hand before he heard the soft rustling of someone else shifting in the room. His eyes snapped open focusing on the last person that he would have imagined would be calmly waiting for his return to lucidity.

“Agent Barton,” he acknowledged carefully.

The man regarded him with cool grey eyes from where he lounged in a deceptively loose sprawl on the couch, his feet braced on the low table. He didn’t appear to be armed, but Loki was no fool. He felt Darcy’s hands grip the material on the back of his shirt in a silent message that she had his back, and he felt some tension leave his shoulders that he didn’t even know had been building.

After a moment of silent staring Barton shifted his position, his feet planted firmly on the floor he leaned forward, bracketing his knees with his elbows.

“SHIELD doesn’t condone torture,” he said abruptly, causing Loki to startle.

“Beg pardon?”

“I came here to tell you. SHIELD doesn’t condone torture. Stark seemed pretty insistent that someone let you know that.”

Loki’s eyebrows creased in confusion, “And he wished for you to relay this to me?”

“No…I, uh, heard him arguing with Captain Rogers about it earlier.” Barton fidgeted uncomfortably, looking as if like he’d love nothing more than for this conversation to end. Loki mulled his words over for a moment before responding.

“I suppose my next question must then be, what does your SHIELD consider to be torture?”

Clint arched an eyebrow, “Do you need a dictionary definition?”

Loki smirked a little. “I’m afraid I am not as familiar with Midgardian customs as I would like to be, so I’m not really sure how…creative…your punishments get.”

He shifted slightly, “In my youth I made a wager with the sons of a visiting dignitary from Nidavellir, that I had no intention of losing. I cheated, and not only that, I was careless and boastful about it. They demanded recompense.” 

He caught Barton’s gaze and held it, “Odin allowed them to sew my lips shut with an awl and golden thread to ‘still my silver tongue from its lies’, and called it fair punishment. Three days passed before he allowed me to remove the bindings.”

Barton looked horrified, and Darcy had gone stiff at his back. He regretted upsetting her but felt a little of his fear leave him at their reactions.

“I suppose your reaction is answer enough. If Dvergar justice appalls you so, it is unlikely you would resort to the tactics of my own people. Thank you for assuaging my fears, Agent.”

The smaller man scrubbed a hand through his hair breathing “Jesus…” before he stood up. “Please, just…don’t tell me that what they did to you is considered normal on Asgard.”

Loki scoffed, “Certainly not, but the Ás are not my people.”

Barton stared at him shrewdly for a moment before shrugging. 

“Anyway, just try to calm down, okay? Stark will probably blow a fuse if you accidently magic away a wall or something because someone sneezed.”

He turned to leave but paused, his hand on the doorknob, when he heard Loki speak again.

“Agent Barton, for what it’s worth…I’m sorry.”

Clint hesitated for a moment. “You know, I really wanted to hate you. When I woke up in the helicarrier and Tash told me what I’d done…,” he shook his head, “I wanted to hate you, and it was easy to, because I hated myself.”

He opened the door half turning to look over his shoulder at the reclining god. “But it wasn’t my fault, it’s the fault of whatever sick bastard is controlling that damn cube. It took me a long time to accept that, but I figure if I’m not to blame than neither are you.” 

He turned around, “So for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

Loki stared after the agent, struck dumb for a moment, before Darcy rolled him onto his back spreading herself over his chest like particularly friendly cat.

“Hello,” he smiled at her pleasantly.

When she looked up he could see she was still upset and he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. He traced circles on her back waiting until she had gathered her thoughts. Soon enough she shifted, her breath ghosting across his collarbone.

“Did that really happen?”

He wouldn’t pretend not to know what she meant.

“Yes, among other things.”

She pushed herself up to stare him in the face, tracing his lips gently with her index finger.

“You deserve so much more than that.”

His smile was fond as she gently kissed the corners of his mouth before sliding to the side to fit in the crook of his arm, laying her head on his shoulder.

He waited as she traced nonsensical patterns on his chest with her fingers. Finally, she sighed.

“Why did he even adopt you if he was going to treat you like that?”

Loki’s eyebrows raised as she shifted to loom him in the eyes, her face set hard.

“I was not adopted, precisely...more like taken for spoils of a war between my brother’s people and my own.”

Her eyes sharpened, “Jarvis said something like that on the first night, that he couldn’t use Thor’s medical data to treat you because you were a different species. Are you really so different?”

He smirked, “Oh, worlds different, love. Most on Asgard would call my people barbaric, monsters.”

She made a face, “How would they even know? You look pretty much the same to me.”

He sighed and sat up pushing her a small distance away. “I suppose this was bound to come up eventually.”

He closed his eyes and allowed the shift to come, hearing Darcy’s soft gasp of surprise when his skin turned blue. When he opened his eyes her expression was one of almost comical wonder, he huffed a nervous laugh in spite of himself.

She reached out hesitating near his face, “Can I?”

He nodded and she gently ran her fingers over the planes and lightly colored ridges of his skin.

“You’re cold.”

He smirked, “Frost Giant.”

She crinkled her nose at him teasingly. “You don’t seem that huge to me.”

He gasped in mock offence causing her to laugh.

“Truthfully though, there is a reason for my size. I was—“

She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “Don’t care. Fun sized giants are the perfect size in my opinion.”

He laughed as she replaced the finger with her lips toppling them both back into the pillows. 

She kissed him forcefully, her warmer lips like a brand, leaving his tingling long after she had disengaged. She grinned widely above him from where she had straddled his chest.

“Wicked,” she pronounced.

His smile was amused, “I have been called that, yes.”

“It’s a good thing, trust me.”

She had just begun to lean forward again when his stomach made an embarrassingly loud noise. She clapped a hand over her own mouth her eyes sparkling with barely contained mirth as he flushed a deep purple.

“Yes, well… it would seem my appetite has returned along with my magic.”

She snorted loudly rolling off of him and then the bed and offered her hand to help him up.

“C’mon, let’s hit the kitchen.”

She slid under his shoulder once he was vertical helping him to carefully walk down the hallway to the shared dining area where Thor and Sif were currently engaged with the Captain over lunch.

Thor’s eyes widened when he caught the other god’s appearance.

“Thor,” Loki greeted carefully

“Brother,” he nodded, and with some difficulty managed not to stare, gesturing to the seat across to him which Loki gratefully sank into. The walk from the bedroom had tired him more than he thought it would have. 

Darcy bustled over to the refrigerator presumably to prepare him something.

“You look well.” Sif smiled easily at him, seeming unsurprised at his appearance, whereas the Captain seemed to have lost the ability to speak at all.

Curious.

“I am much improved today, thank you.” 

“Found it!” 

A hand grasping what appeared to be a steel vase thrust into the room followed quickly by it’s owner.  
“We’ll just fill this baby up and your flowers will--HOLY HELL.” Stark flattened himself against the cabinetry wielding the vase over his head, wide eyes locked firmly on Loki.

“Oh, uh...,” he relaxed sheepishly as he recognized the man, “Hey, Loki. Nice, uh...skin?”

He rolled his eyes wrapping his magic around himself to shift back to the form Stark was more used to, the blue draining away like water.

“Neat trick.” 

The billionaire moved over to the sink to fill the vase before setting it in front of Sif. She thanked him, moving a bouquet Loki had not noticed from her lap to arrange them neatly.

“Picking flowers, Sif?” he arched an eyebrow at her.

“They were a gift, from Captain Rogers.” Thor supplied with a pointed look to his brother. 

Loki’s other eyebrow went up to join its twin as Thor completely failed to hide his amusement behind a bite of sandwich.

Sif watched them both suspiciously, while Captain Rogers himself had become a rather alarming shade of red.

“I fail to see how this is amusing,” she chided. “I think they will brighten up this room nicely.”

Loki stared. 

“This room.”

Sif looked irritated. 

“Yes.”

“That Captain Rogers brought the flowers for.”

“Do you have something against flowers on the table?”

Loki stared alternately at Sif and the Captain, who now appeared to be making some sort of choking noise.

“Surely you’re joking.”

Sif opened her mouth to retort, when Captain Rogers shot to his feet mumbling about needing to be somewhere and rushed out of the kitchen past Stark, who leaned against the counter with a look on his face like a child at Christmas.

“What was that about? You’ve embarrassed him!” she said hotly, glaring at Loki.

“Sorry, I’ve embarrassed him?”

She stood angrily, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Thor chuckled, “Lady Sif, I think what my brother is getting at, is that the flowers were intended for you.”

She paused, “Pardon?”

Loki shook his head incredulously. 

“They were a gift, for you, you great cow. The Captain is attempting to court you.”

Darcy returned, perching on the stool beside him and sliding over a plate of cut fruit and several flaky looking pastries. 

“Easy there, you said yourself you weren't familiar with our customs.” She patted his arm.

He snorted, “No, but I do have eyes nonetheless.”

Sif sat back down heavily, staring at the flowers in shock, “...to court me?”

Darcy, slid off of the stool pecking Loki on the cheek as she passed.

“You...eat that.” 

She moved over to Sif tugging the dumbfounded warrior to her feet, “You, come with me. We need to have an emergency ladies’ night.”

“Ladies...night?”

“Ladies’ night. Jarvis, can you ask Jane to meet me back in my room please?” 

She paused in front of Stark. 

“You’re on prince duty to night,” she ordered receiving an amused half salute in response before dragging Sif behind her out of the room.

Stark slid into Sif’s vacated seat.

“I’m glad we did this, this is fun, you guys are fun,” he grinned.

Loki primly popped a grape into his mouth ignoring the human.

“Brother, you seemed to take offence,” Thor said carefully around his coffee mug.

“Yes well, she did the same thing to me once upon a time,” he sniffed tearing a pastry into small bites before trying one. 

“At the time I thought it cruelty on her part, but clearly I had just been overestimating her social awareness.”

Thor choked on his coffee, “You...you courted Sif?”

“Apparently not,” he said archly. Then taking in his brothers stunned look, “Oh Thor, really, it was centuries ago. I’ve moved past it.”

His brother grinned broadly, “So I see.”

Loki’s look dared Thor to say anything further on the subject, but deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, his brother simply stood moving to the coffee machine for a refill.

“Seriously. You guys. The best.” 

Stark was completely unfazed by Loki’s unimpressed look. 

“It’s like Alien Masterpiece Theatre right here in my own kitchen.”

Rolling his eyes Loki turned back to his plate feeling strangely content.


	9. Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Straight talk: with Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Soundandvision!!!

“Jarvis?” Loki called into the darkened room

“Sir?”

“I thought Thor was to meet Sif and I in the exercise room, did you not wake him?”

“I have been trying, sir,” the AI huffed.  “But he is refusing to get up, you brother proves to be rather stubborn in that respect.” 

The lights slowly raised drawing a groan from the lump of blankets in the middle of the large four poster in the room.

“Go away…,” Thor’s voice growled from somewhere under a stack of pillows

“Thor, you said you wished to spar with us to help Loki regain his stamina,” Sif scolded.  “You cannot hope to help him from your bed.”

Thor’s head emerged blinking blearily into the soft artificial light.  “That was before I knew that this sparring was required to happen before the birth of the suns first rays.”  He flopped back down turning his face into the pillow.

Loki smirked gesturing lightly at the bed, and suddenly Thor found himself fighting to keep a hold of his pillow, which along with his blankets had suddenly decided to scramble from the bed like startled animals.

Sif muffled a laugh as the blonde god heaved a great sigh flopping onto his back and tossing an arm over his eyes.

“Thor, I feel I must warn you, I slept deeply last night and I feel I have rather an excess of energy.”  Loki’s voice was amused as he moved closer to his brother’s bed.  “If I cannot use it to strengthen my body, I feel it only fair to use it in other ways.”  He tapped the bed lightly with his fingers turning the plush mattress to a waterbed.

Thor bobbed sullenly.

“Brother I beg you, come back later.  Can you not see that I have succumb to the Odin-sleep?”

Thor’s mouth curled into a smile as the old joke startled a laugh from his brother.  In their younger days, before they truly understood what the Odinsleep meant, they had often tried to use it as an excuse to avoid their lessons.

He cracked an eye open catching the honest unguarded smile on his brother face before he schooled his expression into his usual smirk.  Loki had been smiling easier in the past few days; the return of his magic (and his appetite) had kicked his recovery into high gear.  Now the only remnants of his poor health that remained were the slightness of his frame and the quickness with which he tired.

Thor groaned dramatically and rolled out of bed with some difficulty, the roiling mass of what used to be his pillow top mattress reluctant to let him go.  Sif smothered a laugh with her hand at the sight of the tangled mass his hair had become after his earlier battle with the sheets. He made a face at her, which she readily returned, as he walked by his still smirking brother.

“Come, the quicker we finish sparring the quicker I can find where my Jane has run off to and perhaps entice her to break fast.”

\-----

Sparring did not go well.

While Sif sparred with the same ferocity as usual, Thor was pulling his punches, and it was infuriating.  Loki’s mood soured with every point he shouldn’t have landed, until finally he exploded, throwing Thor backwards with a burst of energy.

“Enough!” he glared.  “Thor, if you continue to insist upon treating me as if I were spun from glass, I swear I will hex every hair off of your body until you are smooth as a great babe.”

Sif snorted in a most undignified way as his brother blinked owlishly for a moment, his hands subconsciously moving to his head before he blinked, eyes narrowing.

“You think I am not treating you like a true warrior.”

Loki snorted, “I don’t think, Thor, I _know_.”  He turned his attention to the wall, retrieving his throwing knives. “At least Sif is bothering to test my endurance, the only thing you’re managing to test is my patience.”

“Loki,” Sif admonished, “Thor does not mean to cause insult.”

“Yes, well…he never does.”

Thor touched his arm beseechingly.  “Brother, please have patience with me.”  His expression turned grave as he caught Loki’s eye.  “I did not mean to imply you anything less than my equal. I just--”

“Hey, gang,” Stark burst through the gym doors with an easy smile.  “I need to borrow Eustache here for a second.”

He slowed to a stop glancing between the three warriors warily.

“Something wrong?”

Loki huffed, shaking his brother’s arm off and walking briskly towards the billionaire.

“It is of no consequence,” he bit out, grabbing Stark’s shoulder and teleporting them both to the common room.

Tony staggered with a wordless exclamation before slumping to the floor, his face sinking into arms crossed on his knees.

“Stark?”

“Please,” he moaned.  “Unless I’m about to be vaporized by a doombot, never do that again. I’m begging you.”

Loki’s concern eased into amusement as the other man heaved himself into a chair grumbling  something incoherent about mixing magic and technology.  He moved to perch on the table across from Stark, giving him a moment to center himself.

“Well I guess that kind of answers what I wanted to to talk to you about,” he mumbled.

Loki’s brow creased in confusion as Stark captured his gaze. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m not following.…”

“Your magic,” he clarified.  “How much have you gotten back?”

Loki’s expression shuddered closed, his back stiffening.  “I won’t be muzzled again,” he said coldly.

Stark’s eyes widened.  “What? Hey, no… that’s not what I meant.”  He held his hands up defensively.  “I just want to make sure that if something goes down, you can bug out of here.”

The man puffed out a sigh, running a hand over his hair aggressively.

“Listen, Cap brought up a good point the other day. Both SHIELD and your people have been suspiciously quiet about this whole thing, and I don’t like it.”  He leaned forward bracing his forearms on his knees, face serious.  “I want you to know, we’ll fight for you if it comes down to it.  We will.  But if something happens, if we get incapacitated, I want you to get the hell out of dodge.”

Loki stared silently in shock, his mouth going dry.

Stark raised an eyebrow tapping him lightly on the knee. “Hey, you with me?”

“I...yes,” He croaked, trying to swallow.  “But….”

“...but?”

Loki’s face crumpled.  “Why?” he managed, sounding desperate even to his own ears.

Tony looked confused, “Why do I want you to escape?”

“Why would you fight for me?  I’ve killed your people, destroyed your cities….”

The other man snorted bitterly.  “So have I,” he shrugged.  “Maybe not directly, but do you know how my family got rich?  We made weapons.  Guns, bombs, tanks…you name it,” he barked a mirthless laugh.  “Hell, we even made Rogers.”

“Speaking of Rogers, he may seem like the world’s tallest boy scout, but the man has fought in wars.  Sure he was fighting the ‘bad guys’ but you know what?  Those same people were someone’s sons and daughters too, a life is a life.”

He leaned back into the chair, ticking off points on his fingers as he spoke.

“Banner’s caused his fair share of destruction when the big green guy comes out to play, Clint and Natasha are basically assassins for christ sakes, and don’t even get me started on your brother.  The man is like a bull in a chinashop.”

Stark looked at him seriously, “The point I’m trying to make here is that, with the notable exception of Jane and your girlfriend, there isn’t a person in this tower with clean hands and a free conscience.  It doesn’t mean we’re irredeemable, and it doesn’t mean we’re not worth being saved.”

He sighed, stretching as he got up, then laid a warm hand on Loki’s shoulder for a moment.

“Believe me when I say that it’s taken me a long time to come to terms with that idea myself, but Bruce reminds me every time I forget.”

He patted the silent god gently before moving towards the exit, leaving Loki alone with his thoughts and a heavy heart.

\------

When Sif found him later, Loki had been laying on the couch in his darkened room, with wet rag over his eyes, attempting to banish what he was generously referring to as an “emotional hangover”.

“Loki…?” she knocked lightly on his doorframe.  “May I speak with you?”

He peeked at her from underneath the cloth before beckoning her with a hand.  “Leave the lights off, if you would.”

She moved inside sliding smoothly into the nearest couch adjacent chair with a frown.

“You look terrible.”

He huffed a laugh, “Why thank you, Sif.  Your diplomacy is always appreciated.”

She flushed, “No, I mean…are you alright?  Stark didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

“He…no we merely spoke.”  He sat up slightly dumping the cloth onto a nearby table with a twist to his lips.  “I suspect you might be here to tell me much of the same.”

She looked confused and he narrowed his eyes shrewdly. “...or maybe not.”

“What did he say to you?”

Loki waved a hand dismissively.  “It doesn’t matter.  Why are you here?”

She frowned at him severely.  “Loki, what did he say?”

He rolled his eyes.  “You’re not alone, no one is irredeemable, go team, rah rah….  No need to defend my poor fragile honor, Sif,” he deadpanned.

Her face softened, “While that is true, you are correct, it is not why I came.”

He gestured impatiently for her to continue sitting up straighter against the arm of the couch.

“Captain Rogers has been avoiding me.”

His eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting the line of conversation.

She scowled.  “This is partially your fault you know.”

He laughed.  “I hardly think I can be blamed for your inattention, but I will admit to reacting poorly to it.”

“Yes, Thor mentioned your reasoning.”

Loki huffed.  “Of course he did.  It is of no mind, it was centuries ago.”  He sat up properly crossing his legs in a meditative pose.  “Did you never wonder why it was that I cut off all of your hair while you slept that night?”

“I just assumed it to be one of your more mean spirited pranks,” she replied tartly

He smiled warmly.  “Dark hair suits you better anyway.”

Her lips quirked.  “Yes, I suppose it does.”

She shifted leaning forward.  “So, about the Captain….”

“Did your ‘Ladies night’ not prove illuminating?  I had meant to ask.”

She made a face.  “Not especially, their...advice… ranged from highly irregular to completely incoherent. They were all quite inebriated.”

“I see, and you have tried to speak to the Captain about the incident?”

“Yes, I--”

“Don’t.”

She furrowed her brows, “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t bring it up.  Captain Rogers seems like the kind of man to quietly hold himself accountable for personal failings and embarrassments long after they have passed.”

She sighed.  “I see….”

Loki tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“I have noticed him drawing sometimes…,” he offered.

Sif brightened, “Yes! It is a hobby of his, he takes great enjoyment in it from what I’ve seen.”

Loki pointed at her.  “There.  That’s your in.  Try buying him a gift, perhaps a new sketchbook, or charcoal?”  He smirked.  “Or if you’re feeling saucy you could offer to be his model.”

That startled a laugh out of her.  “I do not think that would go over well, he seems an incredibly modest man.”

He shrugged winking at her as she stood with a soft smile.

“Thank you Loki, I will think on this.”  She reached over squeezing his shoulder amicably. “And, Tony Stark is correct, you are not alone.”

He rolled his eyes making a shooing motion with his hands

“Yes, yes…everyone loves me, I’ve got it.  Now leave me to my rest.”

He slid down flat on the couch turning his back to her.  “Gods you’re a sappy bunch of fools,” he muttered.

She chuckled.  “It’s entirely possible, and since we’re on the subject, talk to your brother.  He’s been moping around the tower for hours.”

His hand appeared over one shoulder pointing silently to the door.

She laughed her way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ::glances around guiltily::
> 
> ::fades back into the bushes like Homer Simpson::

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [They fitted him with a mask.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/406363) by [Blackbird_singing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_singing/pseuds/Blackbird_singing)




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